The Tales of Gumball
by xXDasXGoochXx
Summary: A series of Stories ranging from Non-consensual ie. Rape, Mind control and incest. readers beware. this is a xXDasXGoochXx story. newest chapter: The woodcarver
1. Great Grandpa's Ring

Great-grand Pappy's Ring

By: xXDasXGoochXx

A short story in the Tales of Gumball series

The story starts when I was eight. My great-grandpappy, of whom I had no prior memories before that day, was on his death bed, dying from terminal cancer. He asked to see all his living relatives before he died, some considerable number so it had to be over several days, and since it was rumored he had a substantial fortune to bequeath, my Ma dragged me to the hospital with the rest of our family.

Great-grandpappy had a private room. The smell of disinfectant employed to mask the smells of bodily malfunctions was overpowering. It was boring, sitting in the room while my family sucked up to a very sick very old man attached to lots of tubes and measuring devices, and my attention drifted to the nurse who was constantly bustling around. She was a very fat tigress with a gigantic ass, and I couldn't help staring at it as she busied around the room, not knowing whether to laugh at her comic waddling or pity her for the obvious impediment that her weight caused her.

Suddenly Great-grandpappy pointed at me and wheezed: "Everyone leave now. I want a few moments alone with the kid."

Reluctantly the rest of my family got up and went outside.

"You too, Bertha," he instructed the nurse.

"You know I'm not allowed to leave you," she protested.

"Leave, Bertha."

The first instruction was coached as a request, but the latter was clearly an order. Great-grandpappy did something with his hands as he spoke, Bertha's resistance evaporated and she left the room, leaving just the two of us.

"Come stand next to me, boy," Great-grandpappy ordered in his wheezing croak, not even knowing my name.

I really didn't want to, but I knew that if I disobeyed him and he told my Pa, I'd get a beating.

"I've seen best part of a hundred kinsfolk in the past week without a single set of balls between them until I saw you eyeing up Bertha's ass. How old are you boy, ten?"

I didn't correct him.

"She's all woman, and I wish I was still able to get a piece of her. I think you've proved you're the fitting recipient for my greatest treasure."

Great-grandpappy pulled a ring off his emaciated finger and held it to me. It didn't look valuable, just a plain band, clearly not gold or silver. I took the ring.

"Put it on your finger. When you give a woman an order, twist the ring and she'll have no choice but to obey you."

I didn't want to put the ring on because it was coming from an unhygienic, dying man and who knows what I might catch from it, but fearful of the consequences of disobedience I reluctantly slid it on. Although Great-grandpappy was emaciated, his fingers were still larger than mine and I expected the ring to be loose, but actually it was a good fit and felt very comfortable.

"I'm tired. Go now and take your bloodsucking relatives with you."

I left the room and told my family that Great-grandpappy was tired and wanted to rest. Seeing any possibility of a fortune rapidly disappearing, Ma tried to get back into the room to suck up to Great-grandpappy again, but Bertha wouldn't let her.

On the journey home, my family gave me the third degree about what Great-grandpappy wanted alone with me. For some reason I didn't tell them about the cheap knick-knack he had given me or the absurd claims he'd made about it. After all, he was gravely ill and rambling so he probably didn't know what he was saying. I just said he wished me luck in my future life.

(I subsequently heard that Great-grandpappy passed away that night and left the whole of a relatively meagre estate entirely to Bertha.)

For some reason I never took the ring off. I convinced myself it was because I couldn't be bothered since it felt so light and comfortable. Nobody seemed to notice me wearing it, even though all jewelry was officially banned at school

Nothing more of relevance happened until I was in my mid teens. Our English teacher was Mrs. Simmons, an inoffensive middle-aged woman with a huge bosom. We kids quickly realised that however much we played up in class, only one of us would get detention. We devised a game we called detention roulette whereby we acted up to see who the unlucky sacrifice would be, then after a detention was handed out the rest of us knew that it was safe to ignore her for the rest of that lesson.

Ironically, that day I had arranged to hang out with a group of friends straight after school so I really wanted to avoid detention. I was probably the only person in class, apart from a couple of goody-two-shoes, who wasn't misbehaving. And yet I was the one picked out to spend an hour in Mrs. Simmons' company after school.

Mrs. Simmons was writing a script for the end-of-term school play. My punishment was to spend an hour test-reading the dialog with her. In retrospect it probably wasn't a bad effort on her part, borrowing heavily from Shakespeare and fairy tales, but to someone of my age desperate to escape to hang out with my mates it was extremely corny.

We started near the middle of the play. Presumably previous detention servers had road-tested the earlier dialog. We soon got to a part where the character whose lines I was reading revealed herself to be not only a woman but a princess. I was supposed to read the line: "I am a Princess of the Realm and I command you to release me," (provoking much hilarity amongst her captors, according to the script). Instead I said: "I am a Princess of the Realm," then for some reason I twisted Great-grandpappy's ring while following up with: "I command you to release me."

Mrs. Simmons looked disconcerted for a moment then said: "That will be all, you can go now."

I looked at my watch: only fifteen minutes into the hour's detention. Great-grandpappy's ring actually worked! In one moment of juvenile misjudgment I then nearly sabotaged my whole future because of the compulsion to try it again.

"Rub your breasts," I ordered, twisting the ring once more.

Mrs. Simmons rubbed her massive mammaries, causing them to jiggle up and down violently. After a couple of minutes she got quite red in the face. It dawned on me that she might go on rubbing her breasts forever unless I told her to stop.

"Enough," I commanded, twisting the ring.

Mrs. Simmons allowed her hands some much needed rest. She was red in the face and quite flustered.

"Oh my," she exclaimed with a shocked look on her face, "how did you make me do that?"

Fortunately I was quick on the uptake again.

"I order you to forget what just happened," I commanded, twisting the ring again.

Again Mrs. Simmons looked disconcerted.

"Are you still here?" she said, peering at me over the top of her reading glasses. "I don't feel well so I'm going to the staff common-room. Run along now."

And run along I did, my heart pounding as I realised how narrowly I had avoided catastrophe by my quick thinking in ordering Mrs. Simmons to forget.

Over the next few years I learned many more lessons in how to exploit the ring without detection, leading a charmed life at times by narrowly avoiding disasters through a combination of luck and quick thinking.

That brings me more-or-less up-to-date. Perhaps the best way to explain what has become of me is to relate the events of this afternoon.

I was in a neighboring town where I was confident nobody knew me. One of my cardinal rules is not to shit in my own backyard, so to speak. I was in the large shopping mall and, being Saturday, it was packed with teenagers. I kept a careful eye out for suitable prospects, making sure to avoid the gaze of security guards and CCTV.

Suddenly I saw her. There was a group of about ten girls, aged about sixteen, identikit vacuous blonde vixens. She was obviously the younger sister of one of the blondes, following them reluctantly, her Goth looks making her stand out like a sore thumb: black t-shirt, black skirt, black furand a pretty face besmirched by black eye-shadow and black lipstick. She looked about thirteen or fourteen, the perfect age, old enough for her sexual equipment to be functional yet with the immature narrow hips that meant she would have a really tight cunt. As a bonus, more often than not girls of her age are still virgin so there's no worry about the hygiene of whoever's been there before me.

The girls went into a music store and I followed. The blondes headed for the anodyne boy-band section but the Goth headed for the heavy-metal section. Great, she was on her own for a few moments. I snuck up behind her unnoticed as she thumbed through the racks of CDs. Then, from a few inches away, I whispered into her ear while twisting the ring: "Tell the others you're going to the restroom and meet me in ten minutes in the service yard."

The service yard is where trucks make their deliveries. Trucks are not allowed to deliver during prime shopping hours because the access roads become pedestrian-only. So even though the mall was packed, only a few yards away the service yard was completely deserted. The service yard CCTV cameras are all concentrated on the vehicular entrances so what happens in the service yard itself is not recorded.

I slipped out of the mall, carefully avoiding the CCTV cameras. Anyway, should anything go wrong there must be a hundred guys in the mall who resembled me physically and wore similar clothes, and the authorities would surely have no chance of tracing me based on appearance.

The girl appeared in the service yard, looking confused.

"Why am I here? What do you want from me?"

If she had noticed the bulge in my pants she would have known without asking.

"Don't move and don't speak or scream. Stand here facing the wall, bend over and lean against the wall to support yourself," I ordered, twisting the ring.

The girl positioned herself as instructed and stood there motionless, leaning against the wall and supporting herself with her arms. I grabbed the waistband of her skirt and tugged it upwards until her panty clad crotch was accessible. She was wearing plain white cotton little-girl panties, so she obviously wasn't old enough to do all her own shopping. I crudely pushed the gusset aside, exposing her very pretty cunt, with no towel or tampon.

I trailed my fingers along her slit, causing the girl to flinch. When I pushed a finger inside her stone dry cunt she yelped involuntarily. She yelped again when the tip of my finger hit her hymen. A virgin, I had chosen well.

Standing behind the girl I wrapped my arms around her waist and rested the bulge caused by my rock-hard cock in the crevice between her buns. I slid my hands up inside the front of her black t-shirt. Her stomach was warm, ceding way to the gentle undulations of her ribcage, then the soft cotton of her bra.

"While I pinch your nipples you will orgasm," I instructed the girl while twisting the ring.

My hands continued their upwards journey, forcing their way underneath the girl's bra until I had a tiny golfball-sized breast in each hand. The feeling of a young breast is so unique and sensual, firm and taut and yet soft and malleable. I squeezed the breasts hard, pushing and pulling them into unnatural shapes, causing the girl to wince. Then I pinched the girl's nipples and felt her body quake with orgasm.

After a few seconds I released the girl's nipples, leaving her panting as she recovered from the orgasm. I withdrew my hands, leaving her bra and t-shirt in disarray. I tested her cunt again with a finger and found it was now nice and slimy.

I unzipped my pants and with some difficulty fished out my rock-hard cock. I ran it to-and-fro along her slit a few times until it was slick with her juices. I lined up the head with the girl's cunt and thrust in hard. She gave a little squeal as I burst through her hymen, then I pushed in as far as I could, until the head of my cock hit her cervix, causing another yelp. Inside she was velvety and hot and oh so tight as only a young teen can be, something every man ought to experience at least once in his life.

I fucked the girl slowly and deliberately at first, wanting to stretch both the experience and the girl's immature cunt. Gradually I built up speed until I was fucking her hard and fast, balls deep. I felt my groin start to tighten and knew that I would not last much longer. I pulled out almost all the way.

"When I touch your clit you will orgasm, the hardest orgasm of your life, and you will continue to orgasm until I pull out," I instructed the girl while twisting the ring.

I thrust in hard until I was pressing against the girl's cervix, then groping underneath her I felt out her hard little clit. As soon as I touched her little button, the girl spasmed violently with orgasm, letting out a quiet keening sound as her whole body seemed to pulse and throb around my cock. My sperm seemed to boil in my balls, and I resumed fucking the girl hard and fast as gobs of it coursed up my urethra. Six mighty spurts forced their way through my tubes and into the girl's cunt, one of my strongest ejaculations ever, encouraged by the milking of the girl's pulsating cunt muscles. Even after my initial climax my cock stayed hard and produced the occasional dry throb as the girl's continuing orgasm tried to milk me for more.

I must have continued fucking the girl like that for five minutes, with her orgasming the whole time, until my balls were completely empty and my dry throbs were more tiring than pleasurable. I pulled out my cock and squeezed the girl's cunt lips together to keep my sperm trapped inside, then slipped the thick panty gusset back over her cunt to absorb any sperm which might seep out so that it wouldn't trickle down her thighs. Exhausted, the girl sank to her knees, panting hard.

"Turn around and clean my cock with your mouth," I ordered while twisting the ring.

The girl turned around; her face was flushed and streaked with trails of sweat, her hair plastered to her forehead. Young girls look so beautiful after a good fucking. The girl dutifully licked and sucked my cock clean of her blood and juices, but even though she had a very sweet mouth and capable tongue my sated cock stayed resolutely flaccid. When the girl had finished cleaning me up to my satisfaction, even though it was still slightly damp with her saliva, I stowed my cock inside my pants and zipped up.

The girl looked up at me with a desperate, beseeching look in her eyes. Although every muscle in her bruised and battered immature cunt must have been aching after orgasming hard for over five solid minutes, I knew from experience that if she could have spoken she would have been begging me for another meeting for a repeat of the greatest orgasm of her life. While she had been a fantastic fuck and I would have loved a second encounter to take the virginity of the cute little puckered hole between her narrow little boyish buns, another of my cardinal rules is never to sample the same wares twice.

"You will wait two minutes then return to your friends. You will tell them you felt unwell so spent longer in the restroom than you intended, but you're fine now. You will forget everything we did, and if your cunt feels icky you will not try to wash it because you must keep my sperm inside you for at least a week," I instructed, while twisting the ring.

Although I wasn't overjoyed by the prospect of them being raised by single mothers, I quite liked the idea of lots of little mes running round. I knew that girls of my targeted age would probably have erratic periods and low fertility, but that didn't mean I couldn't give them every chance.

Taking advantage of my two minute head start, I slipped back into the crowded mall.

I sometimes wonder whether my Great-grandpappy would have approved of the way I use his inheritance.

-END?

Immoral? I know, Faptastical? Maybe. REVIEW!


	2. Mall Brat

Mall Brat

By: xXDasXGoochXx

Another short story in the Tales of Gumball

I first saw her in the department store. The store caters predominantly to women, with the token men's department on one of the upper floors. The antiquated lifts are slow with long waiting times, but there are escalators between each floor which are quicker. However that means having to pass through several floors of women's clothing to get to the exit and back into the mall.

On my way out of the store, I noticed a group of girls from the local snooty girls' Grammar School. It was a Friday and the girls are let out an hour earlier than the rest of the week. The school has a strict dress code and the girls were dressed in the younger pupils' uniform of green blazer, white blouse, and green pleated skirt. I noticed this one particular girl because she had the face of an angel with a knowing smile framed by long chestnut hair. From my vantage point on a descending escalator I saw that, masked by a crowd of her friends, she took a skirt from a rack of clothes, held it against herself to see what it looked like, then slipped it into her backpack. When the skirt was safely secreted she looked around, saw me watching, and smirked.

I decided not to get involved. That's what store security is for.

Later, after I had finished my day's shopping, I deposited my bags in the trunk of my car and returned to the mall's open-plan coffee lounge to unwind - I really hate shopping for clothes. I was sitting, sipping my second coffee, and watching the passers-by when I saw the gang of girls again. The girl with the angelic face appeared to be the ringleader, and I watched as she jostled an elderly woman out of her path, nearly causing the woman to fall over. The woman obviously said something because the girl responded with an obscene gesture then all the girls circled the woman, taunting her. A security guard saw what was happening and started to move to intervene, but the girls had already lost interest in their prey and were heading towards the coffee shop.

The girls bought pastries, sundaes or ice-creams and drinks and started harassing people to move from their tables so they could all sit together. The girl with the angelic face decided she wanted my table too and moved menacingly in my direction. Suddenly she recognised me from the department store, and with an exaggerated action she 'accidentally' spilled her coffee over my jeans.

"Oh, how terribly clumsy of me, I'm soooo sorry," she theatrically apologized with an affected accent. Plausible deniability; The little madam was certain there was nothing I could do about it and the coffee lounge staff all pointedly looked the other way and pretended to be busy.

Fortunately most of the coffee missed and it wasn't scalding hot but I was left with a warm, brown stain on the crotch and legs of my jeans.

I'm very careful about how I use my gift. If the government ever found out about it I've no doubt I'd be incarcerated in a laboratory for dissection, or forced to work for the security forces against whoever they imagined our enemies to be at the time. But something in me snapped, and I decided this girl needed to be taught a lesson.

Expressionlessly I got up and moved to another table where I patiently sat and finished my coffee. The girl with the angelic face had instantly forgotten about me, probably classing me as a gutless loser who wouldn't stand up to her, and sat chatting noisily with her friends. I probed gently until I found which was her mind and hooked myself in. She never felt a thing, and once hooked in I could pretty much stay in as long as I liked no matter how far apart we were.

People don't think in words so it's not possible to read thoughts. The best I can do is to read feelings and, although you couldn't exactly call them images like you see on television, receive impressions of images which my mind can reconstruct, a bit like imagining yourself to be the hero in a story you're reading - the image is partly from the story and partly how you imagine yourself in the role.

Eventually the girls finished their snacks and got up to leave. I planted an urgent need to use the restroom in the mind of the girl with the angelic face.

"I need to pee, I'll catch up with you guys later," she shouted out shamelessly. She parted company with the gang and headed towards the restrooms, the opposite direction to the way her friends were going.

I got up and followed the girl. She was wearing opaque white tights but they did little to hide the fact that she had really nice legs for a kid. When she went into the restroom I waited outside. I felt when she sat on the toilet, and I also felt her surprise when she could only produce a short burst of pee. I then made her feel compelled to evacuate her bowels, causing more surprise as she was nearly empty. Further implanted impulses made her take off her tights and panties completely and put them in her backpack, together with a wad of toilet tissue. She was a bit confused about why she was doing it but she complied without hesitation. After she wiped herself and stood up, I made her hitch her skirt up high so it barely covered her pussy and ass. She flushed the toilet then washed her hands.

When the girl left the restroom she instinctively tried to turn towards the direction her friends had taken, but I directed her in the other direction, through the nearby exit. The restrooms had only grudgingly been included in the mall, and the builders had sited them as far out of the way as possible, near to a sparsely used exit, to deter people from using them and to minimise the risk of unpleasant odours permeating the complex.

I could feel fear rising in the girl as she found herself taking an unfamiliar route. I followed her at a distance, enjoying the sight of her bare legs, which looked even better in the flesh, and getting occasional glimpses of her pert little ass as it bobbed up and down under her thigh- skimming skirt. I felt myself getting aroused, a tent forming in my soggy jeans. I surreptitiously rearranged it so it wouldn't be obvious to the few passers-by.

Outside the mall I directed the girl towards a building site. A short row of closely packed Victorian houses had been bought for demolition by a developer with the intention of erecting a block of luxury apartments, but the advent of the recession meant demand had dried up. The developer had mothballed the project and fenced off the site, and to take advantage of a quirk in the tax laws had demolished the roofs so the site was classed as a building site rather than the more financially punitive empty housing.

I caught up with the girl until I was only a couple of yards behind her. She now suspected I was there but I made sure she didn't turn round to verify my presence, and I also made sure she couldn't speak in order to alert anyone.

When I found what I was looking for, a gap in the fence, I directed the girl through it. I could feel her heart pumping hard now; she was really scared. I directed the girl towards a derelict house and made her go inside. It was in decent condition, apart from some rain damage to the walls because of the roof having been removed, with no evidence of occupation by drug addicts or the homeless. There was even some half decent carpet still on the lounge floor. I let the girl turn to see me and relaxed my prohibition on her speaking. I could feel her fear rise as she recognized me again; compounding the fear that she already felt from the way her will was being overridden.

"Why am I here, who are you, what do you want?" she pleaded, with tears in her eyes.

"You're here because you picked on the wrong person. I didn't stop you shoplifting and I didn't stop you bullying that old woman, but you went too far when you spilt your coffee on me."

"I'm sorry, I won't do it again, please let me go," she sobbed.

"That's not good enough. You made a mess and now you're going to clean it up." I pointed at my stained jeans, and in particular at the tell-tale bulge in the front. "Why don't you take your clothes off so I can get a good look at you?"

Taking her clothes off was the last thing she wanted to do, but she was unable to resist my implanted impulses. Standing facing me she took off first the blazer, then the blouse, then a plain white bra and finally the skirt, leaving her naked apart from her shoes.

She was absolutely gorgeous, although younger than I first imagined. Her immature mound had just the faintest hint of fluff above her plump little cunt lips, all framed by narrow hips and a flat stomach. Her cute little breasts didn't warrant a bra, being barely AA cup, and I guessed she only wore one to show off to her peers.

"Turn around," I ordered, forcing her to do it whether she wanted to or not. Her pert, boyish buttocks were so cute that I made her bend over and pull them apart, exposing her crinkled pink hole and her cunt lips. I stared for several long seconds, feeling my erection get even harder, then I let her back up.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Philippa," she sobbed, her face now streaked with tears. I couldn't have forced her to tell me her real name if she had chosen to lie, but I deduced from her feelings that she was telling the truth.

"And how old are you?"

"Thirteen."

I felt some slight unease from Philippa at the latter, so I guessed she had either rounded up or down. If she was twelve she was tall for her age, but if she was fourteen she was somewhat underdeveloped.

"Well, Philippa, come over here and kneel in front of me."

As an experiment I initially didn't implant the urge and she stood there motionless, perhaps sensing where this was leading. However when I implanted the urge, she had no option but comply. As a sort of running commentary I gave Philippa a succession of verbal commands, implanting corresponding urges so she had no choice but to obey them.

"Unbuckle my belt. Unzip my fly. Pull my jeans down."

After Philippa had puddled my jeans round my ankles, my straining cock made a 45 degree angle as it fought against the front of my jockeys. Fortunately the coffee hadn't seeped through to my jockeys, but there was a little wet patch on the front where they had absorbed some leaking pre- cum.

"Now pull down my jockeys."

Philippa had to press my cock against my stomach so she could ease the waistband of my jockeys over my straining erection, and even though her little hand only touched me through the layer of fabric, my cock pulsed at the contact.

After my jockeys had joined my jeans round my ankles, my straining cock was pointing straight at Philippa's face.

"Clean up your mess. Lick it all over."

Having no choice, Philippa stuck out her tongue and started licking. I made sure she did a thorough job, feeling her distaste as I made her lick my hairy balls. When my entire cock was glistening with saliva, I made her take the head in her mouth and start sucking while teasing me with her tongue.

I lowered my hands to her budding breasts, moulding and squeezing them and flicking the nipples. I felt her unwanted pleasure, her nipples stiffened and she let out a throaty moan, the vibrations round my cock causing my arousal to grow and my groin to tighten. It would have been so easy and delightful to cum in her cute, hot little mouth but that was not my aim, so I suppressed the urge and pulled out my cock.

"On your hands and knees. Pull your bum cheeks apart."

"No please, anything but that," Philippa pleaded when she realised my target, but I forced her to comply. Leaning forward and taking her weight on her chest, she pulled her bum cheeks apart with both hands, giving easy access to the puckered pink starfish nestling in the middle.

I positioned the head of my cock against her most private portal.

"Push out like you're taking a dump," an unnecessary verbalisation since I compelled her to do it anyway.

Philippa's anal sphincter winked open. I grasped her narrow hips firmly and pushed hard, and slowly my cock sank into her rectum. I pushed slowly but persistently, penetrating deeper and deeper into her dank, fiery depths, until I had two thirds of my length firmly embedded.

My gift affects the conscious mind. I can plant an urge not to breath in your mind and you will stop breathing, but as soon as you lose consciousness your autonomic system takes over again and you'll start breathing again.

Despite my implanted urge to keep pushing out, Philippa's body started instinctively cramping at my volume, producing light, fluttery sensations round my cock before her sphincter clenched firmly round my shaft in a vice-like grip. Again I had to force myself not to cum. I let her rest for a while until she had become accustomed to my volume and the cramping sensations had abated, then I forced her to push out again and resumed my penetration. I felt pressure against the head of my cock as it entered somewhere it was really not intended to go, but apart from some stinging from the stretching of her anal sphincter and some internal bruising as her rectum was stretched, I could feel that Philippa was experiencing no serious ill effects.

Finally I was embedded balls-deep in Philippa's rectum, my belly pressing hard against the cool dry buttocks, such a contrast to her fiery sticky depths. I let Philippa release her bum cheeks, and she pushed herself back up onto her hands and knees, causing me to groan with pleasure at the changing position of my cock inside her tight tunnel. I reached underneath her and seized her pussy firmly with one hand, then implanted an urge for Philippa to do the work. Gently at first she swayed backwards and forwards causing my cock to slide about an inch out of her then slide back in again. With the hand grasping her pussy, I used my fingers to probe between her cunt lips and sought out her hard little button from where it was hiding underneath its hood. Using a fingertip, I gently strummed it like a guitar string. I felt Philippa's arousal mount, and she started crying again, this time with shame that she was getting pleasure from being anally raped.

Philippa speeding up her rocking motion, fucking me more and more frantically, and I continued to keep pace as I strummed her clit. Suddenly every muscle in her body seemed to freeze for an instant before a shuddering orgasm washed over her, producing more delightful clenching sensations round my cock. Using all my willpower I clenched my muscles hard because I didn't want to cum just yet.

The exhausted girl collapsed forwards onto her chest again and I took over the fucking, firmly thrusting in and out of her tight little anus, jolting her body mercilessly with every thrust. I continued strumming Philippa's clit, causing her to instinctively buck and weave her hips in a fruitless attempt to stop the contact since her clit was now so sensitive that the further stimulation was tantamount to pain. I felt my own arousal grow again as inexorably as a volcano about to erupt and I thrust harder and harder into Philippa. Her body stopped fighting my clit strumming and I felt her arousal grow again too. Suddenly I reached my plateau and thrust in as hard and deep as I could, every muscle in my body went rigid and my cock spurted and spurted and spurted deep inside Philippa's rectum. It was the longest, most powerful orgasm of my life. My cock continued throbbing and jerking for about a minute, although only the first half a dozen or so spasms ejaculated any cum. Halfway through my orgasm I felt Philippa go rigid, then her rectal muscles convulsed around my cock as she reached her second orgasm, the delicious sensations prolonging my own pleasure.

Spent, I collapsed panting onto Philippa's back, my weight forcing her to the floor with her knees against her chest. I recovered enough to plant the urge for Philippa to push out, and I carefully extracted my cock from her rectum, coated with my own cum plus occasional flecks of fecal matter. It was still erect, but lacked the hardness necessary for orgasm, something which under normal circumstances I wouldn't have been able to manage for quite some time, having been thoroughly drained of cum.

I rose to my knees, and manually pulled Philippa round to face me. Despite her exhausted condition, I made her get up on her hands and knees again. I waved my erect cock in her face.

"This is going in your cunt next. If you don't lick it absolutely clean, you could catch a nasty infection."

"Please, not there, I'm a virgin," she wheedled, but I planted the urge for her to be silent and to lick my cock.

I compelled her to lick my cock as studiously as before, cleaning it of cum and fecal matter. I could feel she was slightly nauseated by the latter, but fortunately there wasn't very much of it. Eventually my cock was clean of anything apart from fresh saliva. I positioned the exhausted girl on her back with her legs wide apart; she was glad for the chance to rest.

Now came what I think of as a neat trick. I can hook into my own mind and implant urges, and that way I made my erection fully hard and ready to go again. I had to temporarily release Philippa to do it, and if she had known she could have made a bolt for it and probably outrun me, but the comings and goings of mind hooks are undetectable to the victim so she had no idea of her missed opportunity.

I knelt between Philippa's legs, then grasped her ankles and hooked them over my shoulders until her bottom was off the floor and her cunt was at just the right height for my cock. I aimed my cock between Philippa's cunt lips and thrust in hard. Philippa screamed as my cock hit resistance and tore through it. She had been telling the truth, her hymen had been intact.

I belatedly reinserted my hook into Philippa's mind and re-enforced the urge for silence. She sobbed loudly as I grasped her firmly by the hips and drove my cock in the rest of the way. She was hot, tight, and quite wet. Driven by the urge I had implanted in my own mind, I fucked her cunt hard and fast, jolting her hard every time my cock bottomed out against her cervix. I quickly reached orgasm, and my prostate even managed to rustle up enough cum for a couple of squirts before resorting to empty throbs. Still, even that little might have been enough to knock her up.

As I lowered Philippa back onto the carpet, my rapidly deflating cock slipped out of her cunt. It was streaked with blood from her torn hymen with a smear of my cum round the head. I let Philippa speak.

"Bastard," she hissed, and rolled herself into a foetal position.

I sensed that Philippa's immature cunt really hurt from the ruptured hymen and the vigorous fucking by an adult cock, so I let her rest for a while until I got my breath back. I wanted to use girl's fantastic body again but I doubted even an implanted urge could resurrect my flaccid cock this quickly.

I rolled Philippa onto her back again and parted her legs wide. As I knelt between them I saw fear in her eyes that I was going to fuck her aching cunt again. Instead I lowered my head to her pussy, kissed her glistening cunt lips, then licked the length of her pussy, savouring the taste on my tongue. Principally her juices were sweet and syrupy with a strong hint of salt but I also detected a slight tang and a slight metallic taste, the latter probably due to blood from the torn hymen.

Holding her cunt lips apart with my fingers, I lapped up her juices, teasing her hard little button with the tip of my tongue on each stroke. I felt her unwanted arousal growing again.

Philippa came hard, her stomach muscles rippling as the orgasm crashed over her.

My intention had been to teach this young madam a lesson she'd never forget, but I was rapidly becoming smitten by her angelic face, her perfect little body, and her unexpectedly powerful sexual responses. I started mulling over whether this could become more than a one-off.

I continued lapping up Philippa's juices, avoiding her clit for the moment since I knew it would be too sensitive. I felt her growing bewilderment that I was providing her with such unreturned sexual gratification after previously mercilessly raping both her virgin holes.

When I judged that Philippa's clit was receptive to more attention, I resumed including it on my tongue lashes. This time Philippa was more relaxed and she responded by thrusting her hips up at me to increase the pressure. Her arousal grew and grew until she reached orgasm a second time, her whole body going rigid, then rippling and pulsating.

Surprisingly I was enjoying giving oral pleasure to the young girl. I felt like a musician playing an instrument, getting satisfaction from extracting the maximum response from it. I licked Philippa to two more orgasms until my tongue became too tired to continue, although I avoided the temptation to probe her cunt with my tongue because I didn't want to reduce what little cum I had deposited there.

My cock was now semi-hard, and I reckoned I could force one more orgasm out of it. Philippa was lying there in post-orgasmic euphoria and even had a hint of a smile on her face so I had no worries about releasing my mind hooks. I hooked back into my own mind and inserted the urge to fuck her again, my cock immediately springing to full hardness, then I hooked back into Philippa again.

I sensed that Philippa's cunt was still very sore so I decided to use her anus again, employing the same position I found so gratifying before. Philippa's euphoria quickly dissipated as I made her get on her hands and knees, then resting her chest on the carpet, reach round with both hands and pull her bum cheeks wide apart. I made her push out then started to penetrate her pink puckered hole. She winced because the sphincter had been torn slightly and was stinging. Relentlessly I forced my way into Philippa's rectum, finding it easier now from the previous stretching and the added lubrication of my cum deposit. In a relatively short space of time I was balls deep in Philippa's bowels again, and I let her release her bum cheeks so she could use her arms to support herself. I grasped her pussy with my hand again and sought out her clit, ready to resume strumming it.

This time I fucked Philippa's rectum hard and fast, as though fucking her cunt, my belly making slapping noises against her buttocks. I felt her cramping, but her discomfort was offset by the growing pleasure from my tormenting her clit. My implanted urge meant I wasn't going to last long either and soon we were both in the throes of orgasm, my cock throbbing away deep inside Philippa, massaged by her pulsating bowel walls. I'm not sure whether I managed to produce any cum this time, but there was a mild burning sensation in my prostate afterwards.

As I came down from my orgasmic high, I released the hand clamped on Philippa's pussy was soaking wet and a smell of ammonia filled the air; Philippa had wet herself. That reminded me that my own bladder was full from all the coffee I had drunk earlier. I forced Philippa to push out, and withdrew my cock until just the head was lodged in her rectum. Relaxing my bladder muscles, I felt my stream surge up my urethra and gush into Philippa's bowels. I moved my hand from Philippa's pussy to her stomach, feeling it bulge as my urine filled her bowels.

When my bladder was empty, I extracted the head of my cock from Philippa's rectum in one quick motion while compelling her to clench her sphincter tight behind me. I made her stay there on her hands and knees, not moving and not saying anything, her previously flat stomach bulging and her rectum cramping at the volume of pee, her torn sphincter stinging mercilessly where a small amount of my pee had leaked out.

I delved into Philippa's backpack for the wad of toilet tissue. Using somewhat less than half the tissues, in order to leave plenty for Philippa, I wiped my hand and cleaned my cock as best I could, but even when both were dry my hand still smelled and my cock felt sticky. Since they were already stained I put my jeans on but left off my jockeys. If I went to the mall restrooms I could use the solitary disabled toilet with its private washbasin to wash my cock before driving home.

As Philippa watched me warily, strain showing in her face as she clenching her muscles against her twin torments, I continued to rummage through her backpack. I found her panties; although white cotton they appeared not to be part of a matching set with a bra.

"I'll keep these as a souvenir," I gloated, stuffing them in a pocket.

Resuming my search of her backpack, I found Philippa's opaque white tights, the skirt she had stolen, then at the bottom I found her schoolbooks. I quickly rifled through them and hit pay dirt, a loose-leaf diary with Philippa's full name, address and phone number on the first page. I could feel Philippa's anguish as I ripped out the page, folded it, and put it in my pocket.

The find swung a decision for me. Despite the huge risk I would be taking, I decided I wanted to enjoy the girl's small, perfect body again. In fact next time I was going to go hell-for-leather to knock her up. It would be fun doing it, and the responsibility of pregnancy might teach her a lesson. I tried to imagine what Philippa would look like with a stomach swollen with pregnancy.

I knew that if I tried to stay hooked into Philippa's mind, I would lose her when I next fell asleep. I wasn't sure whether implanted urges would have much effect without the presence of mind hooks, but as thoroughly and deeply as I could I implanted two strong urges in Philippa's mind. The first was not to tell anyone the truth about what had transpired here this afternoon and the second was to return at the same time the following week.

"See you next week, same time, same place. And don't make me come and find you," I warned, tapping the pocket where I had placed Philippa's personal details.

Philippa sobbed with despair as she realised that her ordeal wasn't going to end with that afternoon.

I left the building site the same way I had entered it, and made my way back to the mall. Less than an hour had passed since I had left there and I had orgasmed three times, something of a record for me. Once at the mall I released Philippa's impulsions to hold my pee and not move. I sensed her scampering somewhere before her grateful release and I realized she had evacuated my pee somewhere other than the lounge with the half- decent carpet.

I kept my mind hooks in Philippa until late that evening, after which I was reasonably certain she wouldn't tell her parents what had happened. I smiled to myself as I released them; I was looking forward to next Friday.

-END?

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	3. BONUS TWOFORONE: Drinker

Drinker

A short story in the Tale of Gumball

By: xXDasXGoochXx

**A/N:** A special two-for-one.

**A/N 2: **Sorry about the spelling and grammar. English is not my first language.

Chapter One

Hunting is obviously more productive for me at night. But at some times of the year, like now, the school summer holidays, there can be opportunities during the day to obtain and drink the nectar I crave so greatly.

Today I check out a public footpath I found marked on a map, apparently just an average Joe getting some exercise and fresh air. The footpath seems derelict and starts unpromisingly on the edge of an industrial estate, then crosses a farmer's fields before running behind the rear gardens of some large houses owned by the very affluent. The path is overgrown in places and the going is tough, which heightens my sense of expectancy.

I reach the back gardens and look into each as I go past. The first few are deserted, but then I reach one with a solid six-foot wooden fence topped by barbed wire. I grasp the top of the fence and pull myself up so I can peer over. At the very top of the garden, I see a female lying on a beach towel, wearing a white bikini. It's difficult at this distance but I probe her mind and find she's asleep. The question is, is she young enough? I plant the suggestion of an itch in her mind, and her right hand lifts across her stomach and gently scratches her crotch.

How can I gain access? The barbed wire makes the fence impossible to climb. The garden is mostly separated from neighboring properties by tall hedges, well in a way because it means the garden is not overlooked. However right at the bottom, there's a stretch where the garden is only separated from the neighboring property by a low chain-link fence, and the neighboring property has a gate onto the footpath.

I try the gate and it is unlocked. However as soon as I'm through, I hear a frenzied yapping sound and see two poodles rushing towards me. I run to the chain-link fence and climb over, leaving the poodles to continue their excited yapping in vain.

I probe the girl's mind again. She is still asleep, but the noise from the dogs is bringing her towards wakefulness. I reinforce the sleep suggestion, and she returns to a sound slumber.

I make my way to the beach towel and the girl, all the time studying the house for signs of movement. I detect none; the girl appears to be alone.

Up close, the girl is a real beauty, in her early teens, with long brunette hair, a stunningly pretty face, and a shapely, nicely tanned figure despite her small breasts, slim with a slender waist.

I check the girl's mind again and find she is still sound asleep. Even asleep, the mind is still working hard and making decisions and I can't force anyone to do something they don't want. I can reinforce what's already there; sleep, for example, and I can place suggestions in a mind, but only with young girls - once they reach adolescence they are beyond me. The mind makes its own choice whether to do anything about a suggestion; a simple suggestion, like an itch, is not perceived as a threat and the mind will usually decide to scratch. However if I place a suggestion for a girl to remove her bikini, the mind will invariably decide against it.

So, the traditional way, I gently tug the girl's bikini bottom over her hips, slide them down the smooth, tanned, shapely legs, over the feet, and off completely. For a moment, I savour the girl's nicely rounded belly, contrasting white from being covered by the girl's bikini, noting the few wispy hairs on her pussy. I part her legs, exposing her pussy lips and the cute little pink crinkled hole farther down.

I climb between the girl's legs and part her pussy lips with my fingers, exposing the flesh inside. I test her with my forefinger - she is dry and has no hymen to present a barrier. I lower my head to her pussy and lick the full length of her labia. She tastes fresh and clean. After a third lick I detect some moistness, and her little button becomes erect.

The taste of a little girl's juices is indescribable, beyond nectar. I set to with a vengeance, licking and teasing her clit and sucking up my reward. Occasionally I reinforce the sleep suggestion so that the girl doesn't wake up while I am drinking my fill. I am careful not to let the girl orgasm, because after orgasm girls often become too sensitive and I have to let them rest before resuming.

I milk the girl for over half an hour, keeping her continuously on the brink of orgasm, until I have drunk my fill of her precious nectar and can rest my tired tongue and lips. Now to leave my calling card. I climb farther up the girl, position my cock at the entrance to her pussy, and thrust in hard, hitting her cervix with three-quarters of my length inside. Almost immediately, the girl attains her long-awaited orgasm, her whole body bucking and writhing as her pussy pulses round my cock. The girl moans with pleasure, and I am only just in time to reinforce the sleep suggestion to stop her waking up. I continue thrusting and soon achieve my own ejaculation, the dying embers of the girl's orgasm urging the jetting sperm from my cock.

My agenda is complete, and yet my cock is still hard and I want more. I recall that cute little pink puckered hole. I roll the girl onto her belly and once more climb between her legs. I use my fingers to pull her open, and force the head of my cock into that tiny hole. She is very hot and tight and this might be very difficult, but she feels very full inside. I plant the suggestion of needing to shit in her mind, and I'm rewarded when the mind agrees with me and causes the girl to push out. As the girl pushes out, I push in, deeper and deeper. At first there's a balancing act as I simultaneously reinforce the sleep suggestion and keep implanting the shit suggestion, but as my cock causes the girl's body to become fuller and fuller, the shit suggestion becomes easier and easier.

At last, I'm in all the way, my balls resting against the girl's pussy lips, my belly crushing her cool, white, firm buttocks, her sphincter grasping my cock firmly round the base. There's no need for me to thrust, the girl's body is now trying to shit of its own accord, her rectal muscles rhythmically squeezing my cock.

Despite cumming so recently, I feel my groin tighten. A huge throb seems to emanate from my very core and travel the length of my cock. I deposit spurt and spurt of cum deep inside the girl, until I feel totally drained.

My cock loses its hardness and I pull out, leaving just the head inside the girl. Her body slowly loses the urge to shit and I pull out completely, knowing she won't shit herself. I always carry tissues with me for these situations, and I use one to clean up my cock as best I can.

Still reinforcing the sleep suggestion, I roll the girl onto her back again. I manoeuvre her bikini bottom over her feet, and slide it up her legs. Getting it over her hips is the hard part, but somehow I manage it without waking her. It's satisfying to see two wet patches appear on the bikini bottom, then slowly merge into one.

I manage to evade the poodles again as I escape the way I came, leaving them yapping vainly at the closed gate. I must have sucked a pint of juice from the girl, enough to keep me satisfied for a wee

Bonus: Chapter Two

I haven't drunk for nearly a month and I have a raging thirst. That is dangerous because it makes me take risks. Of late the weather has been cold and wet and people have been shutting themselves indoors, but in the space of a couple of days a mini-heatwave has hit us and people are again leaving their windows open at night.

It's night and I'm in an unfamiliar area. I scouted here during the day and noticed a large house with evidence of girl children. I try not to hunt in the same area too often and I never hunt in the streets near my home. As the saying goes, I don't shit in my own patch. The moon is nearly full and I can see quite well, but it also means that I can be seen so I have to be careful.

I'm in luck, the house has a bedroom window open and it doesn't belong to the master bedroom. A drainpipe runs down from the roof, past the open window and empties into a grate at ground level. I test it and it takes my weight. I climb the drainpipe to the window, then reach across to the sill. The curtains are drawn so I will be going in blind. I climb through the open window, and carefully slip between the curtains so that anyone in the room won't be woken by an instant of moonlight.

I'm in a bedroom. A glow-light provides a little illumination, enough to see. There's a girl lying on top of the bed covers. She's wearing a cotton nightdress. I test her mind and find that she's sound asleep, and I try to reinforce that. Then I place the suggestion of an itch; her hand twitches, but doesn't move any further. The girl is at the top end of my age range. Normally I would leave her and seek younger prey, but I am desperate.

I push the girl's nightdress up to her waist. She's not wearing panties and I see a thick thatch of hair on her pussy. I part the girl's legs and climb on the bed between them. I part her pussy lips and lower my head. I lick between her lips. She tastes womanly and strong, not to my taste, but I'm desperate to drink.

I start to lick and suck and the girl responds by producing her precious fluids. The taste is bitter and makes me shudder, but I tongue the girl's clit to keep the juices flowing. I check her mind and find that she's approaching wakefulness. I try to reinforce the suggestion of sleep but she's too old for me. I suck up a few more drops, causing her to moan with pleasure, then reluctantly get off the bed to make my exit.

Out of the corner of my eye I detect motion behind me. I turn in horror as I realise that in my desperation to drink, I had forgotten to check that the bedroom door was closed. I'm momentarily blinded by a flash.

"I've got your picture," comes a whisper. "Do the same to me or I'll scream and call the police."

My vision recovers and I see who my blackmailer is; a young girl, perhaps ten, standing in the doorway holding a camera phone. She is wearing black pajamas and has straight dyed jet-black hair, giving her a goth look. The girl on the bed starts to stir.

"She's waking," I urgently whisper back.

"This way. I'll take care of it. Meet me behind the summer house." The girl beckons me through the door.

I brush past the girl and find myself in a corridor, at the end of which is a staircase leading down. Quickly and quietly I make my way to the ground floor. I catch a glimpse of another flash behind me, then raised voices as the two girls get into an argument.

"What are you doing, you little shit?"

"Brian's going to see this!"

Then running feet, a chase, and a man calling out: "Pack it in, you two. Back to bed. NOW!"

"But she's taken my...!" the older girl starts to protest.

"NOW! I mean it or you're both grounded for a week."

I slip out of a downstairs window into the rear garden. There are lawns and flower beds and, right at the end, a summer house. Every instinct, every shard of common sense, screams at me to leave and not wait for the girl, but she intrigues me and I rationalise staying by reasoning that if she gave my photo to the police, they could make life impossible for me.

I wait and wait. Quarter of an hour goes past, then half an hour. I have just about decided the girl isn't coming when I spot her making her way stealthily from the house.

"I had to wait until they were asleep," she explains. "We'll be safe in here while you tell me what you were doing,"

She lifts a flowerpot to reveal a key, which she uses to unlock the summer house. She gestures me to go in, then she shuts the door behind us. She switches on a light; the summer house has electricity. It is furnished with a sofa, chairs and a table, and there is carpet on the floor.

"Sit," she points at a chair.

"Won't someone see the light?" I ask, taking the seat indicated. It's not right for this insolent child to be ordering me around when I could so easily snuff out the life from her fragile body, but I'm playing along for the moment.

"No, it's completely blacked out." The girl pauses before continuing: "I knew you'd wait. But what are you? A vampire?"

I probe the girl's mind. My initial 'goth' impression is confirmed. I too am dressed all in black and she feels a sort of affinity. She looks slightly older in the light, possibly eleven, but still preteen. I sense that she feels vampires are mysterious, romantic creatures.

"No." I open my mouth and run my tongue across my even, white teeth. "I believe vampires are fictitious."

The girl's face shows disappointment. Obviously being a vampire would have been cool.

"A rapist?"

"That depends on your point of view. Nobody's ever said 'no' to me, but they've never said 'yes' either. I make girls aroused during their sleep so I can suck their juices."

"Go ahead, suck me like you sucked my sister," the girl orders.

"No, you're too young," I resist. I try to implant a suggestion of distaste into her mind, but her resolve is too strong.

"Am not!" she insists.

The girl pulls her pajama pants up so tight I can clearly see the cleft between her labia; she isn't wearing anything underneath. She sits back on the sofa and rubs the cleft with a finger over her pajama pants while staring at me defiantly. After a few minutes, she slips her hand inside her pajama pants and dips her finger directly into the cleft. She withdraws her hand and holds her finger up towards me in a triumphant gesture. I get up from the chair and move over to her. I sniff the finger; it smells absolutely delicious. I lower my mouth over the finger and lick it clean. The taste is completely intoxicating. I am lost, and somehow the girl knows it.

"Now will you suck me?" she asks.

I kneel at the girl's feet. I gently push her body so that she is lying back on the sofa, then I grasp her hips and pull her towards me until her buttocks are on the very edge of the sofa. I grasp the waistband of her pajama pants and pull them down her slender legs, over her feet and off. The girl's intimate scent pervades the summer house.

I part the girl's legs, and for the first time I sense a little doubt in her resolve. Her pussy is completely bald, with immature puffy lips. I lower my head to her lips and kiss them gently. I sense the girl suppressing an instinct to pull away. I pierce her lips with my tongue, causing her to gasp a little. She is moist from her masturbation, and I clean thoroughly inside her labia with my tongue, enjoying her delicious nectar. I search for her clit but I can't feel it. I try to push my tongue inside her cunny, but I'm thwarted by her hymen.

I resume licking inside the girl's labia. I feel her relaxing and she emits a little sigh. Now at last her clit makes its presence known and I tease it with my tongue. The girl produces more nectar, only a tiny quantity but deliciously sweet and intoxicating. I suck voraciously, not wanting to waste a single molecule of this precious fluid. Suddenly I feel the girl go tense, then shudder, as a weak orgasm courses through her body. I have been too greedy. I test her clit with the tip of my tongue and she flinches; she will need to rest before I can drink any more.

"That was wonderful," she says in a dreamy voice, with a faraway look in her eyes.

I don't know what to say in this situation; it's never happened to me before. "You had an orgasm. Was that your first?"

"Yes, I've never felt anything like that before." The girl paused. She wanted to talk. "When I heard you in Claire's room I thought you might be Brian, her boyfriend. He's nice so just for him she acts like she doesn't put out and she's saving herself for the right person, but she's actually a slut and she's fucked at least three other boys."

"What did you do with the photograph? Is it in a safe place?"

"She might find the phone but I've hidden the memory card. I took a photo of Claire how you left her, nightie round her hips, legs wide open and everything showing. I ought to thank you because I'll be able to use it for a long time."

The girl is looking a bit perkier now, recovering from her orgasm.

"You fuck girls after you suck, don't you?" she asks perceptively.

"Usually."

"Are you going to fuck me?"

I am shocked by the directness of the question. "No, you're too young and your hymen is intact. It would be too painful for you."

I plant the suggestion of pain in her mind and this time my suggestion isn't rejected so she probably had doubts of her own to start with.

"You can stick it up my bum," the girl volunteers.

Again I am surprised. I hesitate. "How do you know of such things?"

"This is where my dad keeps his porn, under a trapdoor in the floor. That's why the windows are blacked out, so he can't be seen while he looks at it. The women seem to enjoy having it stuck up their bums."

I have lost control of the situation. The girl is taking my hesitation as encouragement and her eyes are gleaming with anticipation. My cock has already voted, a huge bulge in the front of my pants. I've never done it with a conscious subject before.

"Very well then," I accede. "Turn over, so that your hips are resting on the edge of the sofa."

The girl switches positions, leaving her puckered pink hole at just the right height. I take my pants off. My cock is leaking precum but that isn't enough lubrication. There's nothing in the summer house I can use, and I haven't brought anything with me. I'll just have to use saliva. I spit into my palms and rub the liquid onto my cock.

The girl has slender hips and protruding, boyish buttocks.

"Give me your hands," I ask.

The girl doesn't need her hands for support so she stretches her arms out behind her. I take her hands and place one palm on each buttock, with fingers pointing towards her sphincter.

"Now hold them apart."

The girl pulls her buttocks apart, making my access easier. I position the head of my cock against the girl's sphincter.

"Now push out as through having a shit."

"Won't I make a mess?"

"No, my cock will plug the hole."

I feel the girl's sphincter relax and I push hard with my cock. I plant the suggestion of fullness in the girl's mind, and it helps as she pushes out hard. The head of my cock slips into the girl's rectum, causing me to groan with pleasure at the heat and tightness. I push deeper, monitoring the girl for signs of distress. Her sphincter is stretching beyond anything she has ever experienced and she is feeling some discomfort.

"Do you want me to stop?" I ask.

The girl asked me to do this, and I can sense her determination not to back down now.

"No, carry on."

She pushes out hard and I counter with a hard thrust. My cock slides in until over half is embedded inside her. There is no longer any need for my suggestion of fullness as the girl's own rectum is transmitting that message strongly. The girl pushes out and I push in a bit further. Suddenly the girl loses control of her muscles and she starts to cramp. I stop pushing and slowly the girl regains control, but I can sense her distress.

I reach underneath the girl and feel her pussy. Despite the discomfort, she is producing more delicious nectar. I am tempted to withdraw so I can drink it immediately, but instead I use my fingers to rub her gently and tease her clit. I feel her arousal growing and I counter with jerky little thrusts of my cock. The girl squeals as her orgasm breaks, much stronger this time, and the rhythmic pulsing of her rectum round my cock precipitates my own ejaculation, sucking my sperm deep into the girl's bowels.

Bursting with impatience, I slowly withdraw my shrinking cock from the girl's rectum, giving it time to send corrected fullness messages to her brain. Even after I withdraw, I take the time to wipe myself clean with the tissues I brought with me. At last I allow myself to drink, lapping up the girl's delicious fluids with my tongue. The girl starts to revive.

"Thank you, that was awesome."

Eventually I have sucked up all I can. I consider trying to elicit more, but my tongue and jaw are tired. I pull up my pants.

"You're going to delete the picture now, aren't you."

I can't read memories, otherwise I'd be able to read where the girl has stashed the memory card and take it anyway. She gets up from the sofa.

"No way. That was so much fun I want to do it again and again."

She puts on her pajama pants. I think quickly and plant in her mind the suggestion of myself prowling when the moon is full.

"I only hunt when there's a full moon."

My suggestive powers are strong with one this young, and she buys it.

"That's a date then. Next full moon, here, one in the morning."

The girl yawns. I probe her mind and feel her tiredness. It's long past her bedtime and the sex has exhausted her. I gently reinforce the tiredness until her eyelids start to droop and she slumps into my arms, then counterbalance with a suggestion of wakefulness to keep her half awake, in a dreamlike state. I have a plan.

I pick the girl up in my arms, marveling at how little she weighs considering what we have just done together. I carry her out of the summer house, locking the door and putting the key back under the flowerpot. I carry her to the main house, through the rear entrance she left unlocked, and up the stairs to the corridor. I didn't make any noise on the way down and fortunately nothing creaks on the way up either.

Which is the girl's bedroom? I know which is her sister's and I have a good idea that her father is sleeping at the end so that leaves two candidates. I stand halfway between the two doors and implant the suggestion of bed inside the girl's mind. She waves an arm at one door as though reaching for the handle. I open the door and carry her in. Like her sister's room, it is illuminated by a glow-light. It is obviously the bedroom of a young girl with dolls and cuddly toys, but the posters on the wall contain predominantly black imagery so I am confident this is the right room.

I lay the girl on her bed, continuing to counterbalance her inclination to sleep in order to keep her half awake. I look around; there's a cellphone on a desk, almost inviting her sister to take it. I have no idea where she might have hidden the memory card. I plant the suggestion that the memory card is in danger in the girl's mind, and she lazily reaches out her arm towards a black stuffed toy dog. It must be hidden inside somewhere. Now I reinforce the suggestion of sleep, and the girl slumps into unconsciousness.

I could just take the whole toy, but I'd rather just take the memory card. I can't find any pouches or pockets, but when I feel the dog all over, I detect something hard under its belly. The stitching has come undone and when I feel inside, I find the memory card. I remove it and put it in my pocket. I take the memory card currently in the cellphone and place it inside the dog. Hopefully I've confused the situation so much that she won't know who to blame. At least I'm back in control.

I take my leave of the house. All in all the night has worked out quite well. I've had some new experiences and a couple of drinks, one particularly delicious from a willing donor. Although I now have the memory card with my photo, I think I might pass this way again next time there's a full moon.

End!

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	4. The Woodcarver

**A/N: after studying about old Germanic tribe ways, this hit me. Rated M for xXDasXGoochXx**

Tales of Gumball

The Woodcarver

By: xXDasXGooc hXx

She walked for mile after mile down the dusty lane. She started to wonder if she would ever find it, even though her mother said it was out there. She rounded a bend in the road and there it was, the woodcarver's shop. Just like her mother described it, the outer walls were made from vertical slats of old, rough hewn wood. The roof was thatched. There were no signs telling what it was, just a front door.

She entered to find herself in a vestibule. On the walls were coat hooks and on the floor wooden boxes. She went through the second door. The smell of raw wood overwhelmed her, making her dizzy and disoriented. The floor was covered in wood shavings several inches thick. The walls had wooden carvings of torsos attached to them; no head, no arms or legs, just bodies. Each had a name and an age on a placard. The ages ranged from nine to thirteen. She tried to see her mother's name but there were just too many carvings up there. They were the carved wooden torsos of girls who had just entered puberty. Their engorged nipples were tinted anywhere from dusky pink to tea tan. The pudendum was spread open wide and the inner, rosy colored vulva, with its inner lips, hood, clitoris, and the entrance to the vagina, was carved in exquisite detail. It took her breath away just looking at all of them.

The woodcarver's shop was supposed to be magical, but she saw nothing magical about it. If anything, it looked a bit dingy and in need of a good cleaning.

The man behind the counter was dressed in dungaree coveralls. He was young, much younger than she expected if he were the same man that carved her mother's torso. He was handsome, oh, so very handsome, with Purple hair and jet black eyes.

"May I help you?" he asked.

"Are you Gumball, the woodcarver?"

"Yes, I am."

"Will you carve me?"

She held her breath, wondering what she would do if he said no.

She could feel the warmth of his smile as he looked at her. She smiled her best smile back. "I want you to go back to the vestibule, take off all your clothes, and come back here," he said.

That is exactly what her mother told her he would say. She was ready to do that, like all children of the village she grew up being naked within the confines of her house, but at the same time being completely naked in front of a stranger was going to be huge for her.

As she was walking out she saw one lone niche above the door that was empty except for a placard that read ANAIS AGE 11. She stopped and stared. That was her name and that was her age. But that could not possibly mean her; it was her first trip to the shop.

In the vestibule she took off her shoes and placed them in the wood box on the floor. She took off her dress and hung it on the coat hook. It took all her willpower to push her panties to the floor and as she did that she started trembling. She did not understand, she looked forward to doing this for a long time, but now that she was there she was scared. Anais hung the panties beneath her dress so no one would see them if they came in there. With knocking knees she pushed open the door and reentered the shop.

She looked across the room and he was standing in front of the counter, just as naked as she was. With her every unsure step she took toward him she noticed his penis rise and thicken. It was the handsomest cock she ever saw, much nicer than her father's or her friends'. She found she could not take her eyes off of it; it was mesmerizing. When she stopped within two feet of him she was staring at it and the eye in the tip was staring back.

He tilted her head up and at the same time made sure she was in the first stage of puberty. He confirmed her nipples had grown and they had taken on a delicate pink hue. He said, "Don't be frightened. I won't hurt you. I want you to do me a favor and step up onto the platform." She looked where he pointed and saw the slab of a large round tree trunk. She could see the annular rings between blotches of red and pink.

Anais stepped up onto the platform and turned to face him again. Gumball reached out and gently took her nipple between thumb and forefinger. His fingers were warm and a faint electric buzz went through each nipple which made them thick and pointy.

"Look down," he said. When she did she saw her pink nipples were sitting proudly on the slight rise of her breasts. "Do you see the blocks nailed to the platform?" he asked.

She looked further down. "Yes."

"I want you to slide your feet until they are resting against the blocks."

She looked at how far the blocks were spread apart. "I don't think I can."

"You must." The warmth had left his voice and was replaced with sharpness.

She slid her feet as he directed and when she was sure she could go no further she forced her legs apart until her feet finally touched the blocks. It felt like her crotch was going to rip apart at any second. He slid his hand between her legs and she realized her cunny was split open just like the carving on the wall. There was the same warm feeling and slight electric buzz as when he touched her nipples. She quickly found herself wet and aroused.

Gumball picked up a piece of tree branch and immediately started whittling it. She watched in absolute fascination as the wood chips went flying. When it finally started taking form he compared it to his hard-on. He kept whittling and kept comparing. When it was done to his satisfaction it was an exact image of his genitals right down to the veins that popped the skin. She watched as he held the carving by the scrotum and put it between her legs.

"This is going to jolt, but not hurt. Do not move."

"Okay." His voice sounded so sincere that she could not help but believe him. She felt the wooden penis press against her hymen. Her heart started beating a mile a minute. She concentrated hard on not moving, but in the end the force of the dildo against her hymen made her rise to her toes.

He snapped at her, "Hold still, damn it."

She knew her body did not want to obey. She planted her heels firmly against the wood, and imagined they were nailed down. He put more and more pressure on the dildo until suddenly the hymen gave away and the wood penis shot up into her vagina. Just like he promised there was not the slightest amount of pain. She felt something wet and warm trickle down her leg. She looked down and saw a trail of blood running down the inside of her leg until it joined the other older red spots on the wood platform.

Gumball pulled the wooden penis out of her vagina. She could see that it too was covered in blood. He gripped the shaft with one hand and the scrotum with the other and broke it into two pieces. He threw the scrotum away. From a drawer in the front of the counter he took out a leather fob with an attached brass screw. He screwed the fob into the end of the wooden penis. From behind her she heard him say, "Just relax and everything will be okay," in his soothing voice. There was hardly any resistance as his finger entered her anus. He withdrew it and then inserted the wood cock. She could not believe how calmly she took it or how easily the wood cock slid into her rectum.

He walked around to the front with the wood cock left where he put it. "Now listen very carefully. You are not to take that out under any circumstances except to relieve yourself which should not happen until tomorrow morning. After you are through defecating you are to wash both the dildo and your backside before reinserting it. Don't worry; it can only go in so far and no further. There is absolutely no chance of it going completely inside of you. Do you understand all that I said?"

"Yes, sir."

"I will see you again next Tuesday at ten AM. Now go home."

Anais dressed and left the woodworking shop. All the way home she was conscious of the wood penis in her rectum. With every step she could feel the leather fob caught between the halves of her buttocks.

When she got home her mother asked, "Did you meet the woodcarver?"

"Yes, I did."

"Did he do you?"

Anais knew what her mother meant. "Yes."

Just like he said, she had no urge to defecate until the following morning. She pulled on the fob to back the dildo out of her rectum, she did what had to be done, and then took a shower taking the dildo inside the shower with her. She carefully washed it and herself. If it was wood it was a different kind of wood than she knew about. That part of it which represented the glans was soft and spongy. The exterior covering was soft and moved easily over the hard center shaft. It felt like flesh, but Anais knew better, she had watched him carve it out of a tree branch. Anais worked up her resolve, bent over and pushed the shaft back into her rectum.

She helped her mother around the house and played with her friends, all the while the dildo resided in her rectum. With the thought and feel of the wood penis inside her, she was constantly aroused. Her nipples never shrunk back to their relaxed size. She masturbated two to three times a day without relief from a constant sexual craving. It felt so good to play in her pussy and diddle her clitoris.

Her mother warned her only to do what the woodcarver told her to do and Anais promised she would.

On Tuesday Anais walked back to the woodcarver's shop. As soon as she was in the vestibule she took off her clothes. He was again naked and his penis rose at her approach. Just like last time she found herself staring at his erection.

"Did you wear it like I told you?" he asked.

"Yes, all week except to defecate."

"That's a good girl. Now up on the platform like last week." As she stood with her feet against the blocks she saw a three foot by three foot section of a thick tree trunk on a table directly in front of her. It had been skinned of its bark and glowed a soft golden color. He chiseled at the log occasionally looking at her as if getting mental measurements. At the end of two hours her muscles screamed with pain, although she did not say one word of complaint. Gumball went behind her and withdrew the dildo. He washed it in a bucket of sudsy water and dried it with paper towels. He stepped up to her and slid the dildo into her vagina.

"You can get down now," he said.

Her legs did not want to move from being in one position for so long and he helped her to stand. The platform raised her to the same height as him. He gathered her in his arms and kissed her. It was just a short kiss. He reached up and pinched her cheeks until her jaw spread and her mouth opened. He kissed her again before she had a chance to close her mouth. She had never been kissed like that before. All her previous kisses had been chaste closed mouth affairs from either her father or a boy she liked at school. His hand clutched her buttock and pushed her body against his cock. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him back. She was quite out of breath and giggly when they parted.

"You will wear the wood cock inside your vagina this week. Don't worry, it can't fall out, nor is there any reason for you to take it out."

She nodded her understanding. She looked at the log he had been working on. In no way did it reflect her body. It had a long way to go. He let her stay an extra hour. She helped him clean his tools. She felt good about working side by side with him.

"How did it go today?" her mother asked.

She told her mother about posing and the tree trunk, but as she explained she realized her mother already knew from her own experience.

"And the dildo is in place?"

Instead of answering Anais opened her legs, and showed her mother the leather fob dangling from her cunny.

"I see you were a good girl there today," her mother said.

"How do you know?"

"The dildo in your vagina tells me that you were good. If it were in your rectum it was because you somehow displeased him, and let me tell you, he displeases easily. You did well for only your second visit. I think this calls for a reward, perhaps a new dress."

"Oh, momma, that would be great."

Anais thought of the previous week and how he had barked at her on two separate occasions. She was sure that was the reason she had to wear the dildo in her anus.

Anais's father came home from work and looked at his naked daughter. It seemed to him that it wasn't that long ago that she was a flat chested little girl. Then he saw the fob between her legs and immediately felt sad. So the woodcarver got to her too. He knew he should have expected it. The woodcarver had robbed young girls of their virginity for about as long as the town existed. It was a superstition that the woodcarver was looking for the perfect mate, and, once found, the girl would be his slave for the rest of eternity. He thought that would have been enough to deter the girls from going to him, but quite the opposite was true. All the village girls sought out the woodcarver. No one knew if this was the original woodcarver or from a long line of descendents. The only thing was, the woodcarver never seemed to age. Her father consoled himself with the thought that the woodcarver had not found the perfect mate in the hundreds of girls he deflowered so the chance it was Anais were slim to none.

Anais jumped up when she saw him and gave her father a kiss on the cheek. Her aroma overwhelmed him.

As they ate supper her father knew he had to do something about his desires. Right after supper he took a long ice cold shower. Just as soon as he walked into the living room and smelled the odor he knew it wasn't working. He took off his robe and sat on the couch. "Come sit by me," he told Anais and she obeyed. It was not all that unusual for the two of them, both naked, to cuddle together, what was unusual was that her father had an erection. Still, in her sweet innocents, she did not understand the ramifications of that. He put his hand on her thigh and let it drift up until his finger touched the fob. It gave him a strong shock. At that same moment her mother said, "You don't want to cross that line." Her father quickly took away his hand. Anais was sorry, his hand felt good on her thigh. Anais felt bewildered by all that was going on.

Her father avoided Anais from then on, but she noticed when he did come near her there was a definite tenting of his pants.

Anais asked her mother, "Why is daddy avoiding me?"

"You're constantly in heat. You are throwing off pheromones like crazy. Men find it almost impossible to resist."

"What are pheromones?"

"They are aromatic signals that you want sex."

"What can I do?"

"Absolutely nothing about the smell. Try to stay away from your father as much as possible. No cuddling. No more going naked in front of him."

That is not what she wanted to hear. The dildo constantly hummed in her vagina making her want her father to touch her all the more.

The mother designed the dress knowing exactly what her daughter was going though. The front was open in a vee down to the bottom of the breast bone so her daughter could rub her nipples when they demanded she do so. The skirt was short and full cut to make it easy for Anais to touch her cunny.

The following Tuesday Anais was back on the platform at the woodcarver's shop. She stood stock still as the woodcarver ran his hands down her body paying particular attention to her breasts, buttocks and vulva. His hands on her body felt so good she wished he would not stop, but then he went to the tree log and ran his hands sensuously over it.

Curiosity getting the best of her, she asked, "What are you doing?"

"Searching for your body." She looked at him like he was crazy. "Your torso is within the wood. I have to find it so I know what wood to remove." A frown came to her face. She never heard of such a thing. There was a moment of glare on his face before he returned to what he was doing.

Anais was sent home immediately after the session with the dildo in her rectum. She wished she would have kept her mouth shut. She much preferred the dildo in her vagina.

Anais was not happy with life at home. She avoided her father who she loved very much and for the first time in her life she wore clothes when her father came home from work. Her only small joy was looking forward to Tuesday and posing for the woodcarver.

For the third and fourth week he continued to feel her body and the log. She loved to watch his penis which was always hard in her presence. It would bobble around as he worked and ooze precum that dripped to the floor. She kept her mouth shut for fear of upsetting him and then having to wear the wood penis in her rectum for the week. She was rewarded both weeks with him placing the dildo in her vagina. She liked the feel of the fob brushing her thighs as she walked and the way the dildo hummed in her vagina keeping her constantly wet and aroused.

During her fifth week pose he said, "I found it," after again feeling her body and the log. He started chiseling the wood in earnest. She saw the transformation in him. He smiled and whistled as he worked. After two hours work a lot of chips had flown, but there was still a lot of wood to go.

"We should celebrate," he said. "Would you like to have sex with me?"

"Really?" She could hardly contain her excitement. All those weeks of wearing the wood penis only made her dream of having it replaced with the real thing.

She expected the bedroom to be as unkempt as the shop and was pleasantly surprised to find it immaculate. It had a king size bed with a feather comforter. He tickled her until she was laughing uncontrollably. He kissed and licked her. He sucked on her nipples and licked the inside of her vulva. When he demanded that she suck his penis, she did so with unreserved joy. She loved the sweet taste of the necter that flowed out of it and down her throat. He told her that from then on she would suck his penis and swallow his cum before she posed, and she agreed wholeheartedly. Why not, she loved his cock, was obsessed with it.

When she got home late that night she was so excited she told her mother about her first fuck in great detail. Her mother was glad for her. She said, "I still remember my first time. He is a wonderful lover. I bowed to his every demand."

"Yes, mother, I loved every time he told me what to do. I still cannot believe the passion I put into kissing his anus."

On her next visit she could not wait until she sucked his cock and drank his juices. "It's habit forming, isn't it?" he asked her. That made no difference, to her it was an aphrodisiac. "You will soon be addicted to it." he said. She didn't care, the taste alone made her heart beat fast and her pussy throb.

He waited several weeks and when he was sure she was addicted to his semen he told her, "If you wish to continue receiving the honey from my penis, then you must do everything I tell you." Anais answered, "I promise, I will." There was nothing she wouldn't do for him and nothing he didn't do to her. In the simplest terms, she became his fuck toy.

Each Tuesday for the next six weeks the woodcarver spent two hours carving wood while Anais posed and six hours in bed having sex with her. They did not eat and she did not miss it, she was in love. She was in love with his cock that brought her so much joy. She was addicted to his semen just like he said she would be. He knew how to manually bring her to climax and it was exactly the same way she masturbated-in the doggy position. She wondered how he knew how she did it. Every Tuesday she experienced multiple orgasms. She loved the feeling of being awash in his semen in her vagina and rectum. She was delirious with happiness. She was positive she would be the girl he chose to be his slave. Forever sounded good to her.

He told her she was not to wear clothes until he was finished. She walked home completely naked, her dress and shoes still in the vestibule. She would stay naked until the end, whenever that might be. It was traditional. When she went to town the men avoided her, those that did not, those that smelled her powerful sexual odor and gazed at her bare genitals with the fob hanging from her nether lips were treated to a painful erection. It was fair warning that she was the woodcarver's nymph, his private property, and to be avoided at all costs.

The torso slowly took shape as he went from big chisels to little chisels, gouges and then sandpaper. He spent two weeks just carving her genitals into the wood. He tinted the nipples and inner vulva to match her coloring. He finished it with a coating of wood preservative.

On the twelfth week she found her wood torso laying on the platform. She could not believe how it was an exact copy of her body right down to the mole developing on her pubic mound. When she looked close she could see the grain of the wood. It was beautiful.

"Touch the genitals," he said. "It has turned out perfect." Her hand went to the vulva. The wood was soft, damp, and felt like flesh. It gave her goose bumps just touching it.

He sat her down and held her hand. "We are done. You came oh so close, but I am sorry to say you are not my perfect mate. This is goodbye, and I wish you nothing but luck in your future."

She cried for months after that. Anais longed for his penis that fit so perfectly into every part of her body and craved the taste of his semen that made her feel so euphoric.

**A/N: Do I still have it? its been a while since I wrote a lemon. Please review with what you think.**


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